


blood in the cut.

by submissivekillers (prettylittlehead)



Category: Scream (Movies)
Genre: Blood Kink, Bondage, F/M, Gen, Handcuffs, Knifeplay, M/M, Marking, Polyamory, Possessive Sex, Riding, Safe Sane and Consensual, Scratching, Sub Billy, dom reader, dumb references to uncut gems, everyone's in college yeehaw, idk about sane, reader gets Slightly yandere but its cool billys in2 it, well safe n consensual at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 04:21:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30133917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettylittlehead/pseuds/submissivekillers
Summary: when your boyfriend gets a good result on his final exams, you meet up with your other boyfriend to celebrate. things quickly get out of hand - especially when a hunting knife is added to the mix.oh, also your boyfriends are serial killers. maybe i should have mentioned that
Relationships: Billy Loomis/Reader, Billy Loomis/Stu Macher/Reader
Kudos: 10





	blood in the cut.

**Author's Note:**

> request: _bless u for this blog. can i get some billy loomis with a female dom s/o? preferably with bondage and some knifeplay?? (anonymous)_
> 
> a _very_ fun request from my tumblr, @submissivekillers. female reader, she/her pronouns used, clit and cunt used for anatomy. college setting. enjoy and don't forget to stop by my tumblr if you like what you're reading!

You liked to think that most of the time, you had fairly good impulse control. 

Well, maybe _good_ was an exaggeration, but _okay_ impulse control, at the very least. Certainly, the best when it came down to you and your partners, though that wasn’t saying much when said partners were the two most chaotic men to ever come out of Woodsboro, California. 

Often, you were the one that took the role of the dissenter: arguing that no, that guy didn’t deserve to be killed and _no_ , you were not going to let Billy slip his hands under your skirt in the frozen aisle and _no Stu the diamond-encrusted Furby was not a good deal, get it off the screen it’s staring into my soul_ \- 

Anyway. 

The three of you still ended up getting into a fair share of shenanigans, and you could definitely be an enabler when it suited you, but most of the time you prided yourself on your common sense. 

Unfortunately, today it looked like Stu had ended up with all the brain cells. 

You were supposed to just be chilling with Billy, waiting for Stu to get back to your shared dorm; he’d called you both earlier, excited about a _stellar_ (his wording) grade on his final exam and promising to bring back good booze to celebrate. Instead, it had taken _maybe_ five minutes of Billy throwing hungry glances at your mouth before you gave in and sat yourself in his lap, and from there it had led to your current situation; Billy, shirt in tatters and hands cuffed above his head, watching you with blown pupils as you ride him leisurely. Your steady hand holds the hilt of his favorite hunting knife, serrated edge pressed delicately to his taut throat. 

So perhaps your impulse control left something to be desired. But when this was the result? You couldn’t really complain. 

“ _Fffuck_ ,” Billy growls as you squeeze around him, cuffed hands twitching uselessly. He swallows a moan and you watch his Adam’s apple bob, scraping just-so against the curved blade. It leaves a soft pink imprint in his pale flesh, a mirror of the others you’d left scattered over his chest as you cut through his t-shirt; never breaking the skin, but enough pressure to make Billy groan and buck his hips in search of more friction. “Fucking — move _faster_.” 

“You trying to boss me around?” You raise a brow in mock-surprise, stopping your movements just to watch him glare helplessly up at you. Your unoccupied hand slides between your legs, Billy craning his neck to try and watch as your fingers find your clit. You’re trying to play it cool, but a shiver runs through you at the added stimulation, hips rolling into your own touch despite yourself. “That’s a bold move for someone in stabbing range.” 

“Oh, doll, I have _of bold_ moves.” Billy grins at you, the kind of mischievous look you’ve come to associate with very bad decisions. You grind down, and he bucks up to meet you, cockhead spearing something inside you that makes your vision fuzz white and - 

Your hand slips. 

You lurch back with a gasped curse, but not fast enough; blood bubbles slowly to the surface of a thin cut stretching across the curve of his throat, and you don’t have time to panic because Billy _whines_ , back arching clear off the couch and nails digging into the fabric so hard you hear seams rip. 

Well. 

Okay. You can work with this. 

“If you wanted me to cut you up for _real_ , you could’ve just said so,” you tease, reaching down to press a thumb against the wound. His eyes roll back, jaw going slack for a moment before he forces himself to focus - only to moan lowly at the sight of you sucking his blood off your fingers, tongue flickering out to catch an errant smear at the corner of your lips. The cut is long but shallow; you can't tell if it will leave a scar. 

The thought that it _might_ appeals to you more than you thought it would. 

You lean down, pressing soft kisses to his temple, his cheek, the corner of his mouth before you speak, his breath quick against your lips. “Green light?” 

Billy nods, eager, and you kiss him, hard and messy and wanting, as your hips start to move. You feel his chest rumble against yours, swallow his deep moan - and then he tosses his head back and shouts wordlessly as the blade breaks his skin, your steady hand drawing a neat line of red down the length of his breastbone. You lean back to survey your handiwork, blood starting to trail across his skin as he writhes beneath you, cursing and panting. 

You lose yourself in him for what could be minutes and what could be hours, bouncing on his cock and tracing the knife against his chest, his stomach, the side of his hip. You’re careful not to cut deeply- you’ve picked up plenty of tips from your boyfriends about proper knife usage - but his skin is painted red and slick from your tender attentions, dark eyes glazed over, face flushed. It’s quiet but for the creaking of the couch beneath you and your combined moans, Billy's voice occasionally rising in pitch when you leave a particularly nasty gash, until a thought occurs to you. “Does Stu know? Has he cut you up like this?” You ask, laying the cool flat of the blade against a pebbled nipple. Billy shakes his head, but you feel the shiver that runs through him, plush bottom lip catching between his teeth. “You want him to, though.” 

_“God, fuck._ Yeah,” Billy sighs, grinding up against your pumping hips. You hum contemplatively, imagining Stu with the knife in his hand, imagining the quiet, focused look he’d get as he worked the blade, slicing through your boyfriend's soft skin. The thought makes your cunt clench around Billy's cock, ripping a strangled noise from his throat. 

“Maybe Stu and I should carve our initials here,” you muse, making a series of shallow little incisions in the thin skin over his collarbone. “That way everyone will know you belong to us.”

And _oh_ , that does it; Billy gasps, every lean muscle pulling taut, and then all his breath leaves in a shivery moan as he comes, cock pulsing inside you. You toss the knife aside carelessly, ducking down to press your mouth to his - and your orgasm hits sweet and sudden and you’re whimpering against his lips, his cuffed hands coming up to wrap around your shoulders, the connecting chain blessedly cool against your flushed skin. 

You’re still pressed chest-to-chest, panting and grinning at each other when you hear the sound of raucous applause behind you, a piercing wolf-whistle echoing through the small room. You wiggle your way out of Billy’s arms (and off of his dick) and lock eyes with Stu - only for a moment, because he seems far more interested in studying your bare torso, patterned with stripes of Billy's blood.

“Nice work on the test,” Billy deadpans beneath you. Stu cackles, stopping to drop a plastic bag to the floor (there’s an alarming thud when it impacts, and you absently hope that nothing's broken) as he ambles over, stripping out of his jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his baggy sweater. 

“Thanks, babe!” He chirps, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips and then ducking lower to kiss Billy, bracing a hand on his chest and pressing down a bit harder than is strictly necessary. When he pulls away, his palm is painted red, a bead of blood trailing down his boney wrist; Stu regards it curiously for a moment, eyes half-lidded, then catches it on his tongue before it can reach his sleeve. “Don’t know why you got started on the celebration without me, but I appreciate the thought.” 

“It was all her idea.” Billy gestures at you and you snort, squeezing his thigh as you shift off his hips and lay back on the couch, idly snagging the knife and twirling it between your fingers. 

“I believe it,” Stu says, nodding solemnly. He drops to his knees before you, laying his head on your thigh. “Awful rude of you, ya know.” 

“However can I make it up to you?” You mock-swoon, pressing your free hand to your forehead. Stu laughs, taking advantage of your distraction to pluck the knife from your hands so he can run his tongue along the blade, letting out a contented hum. You’re pleasantly sore and breathless, still dripping with Billy’s cum, but the sight of his mouth stained red still makes your heart jump.

You see Stu’s gaze flick over your shoulder, but don’t have time to react before there’s the distinct sound of rattling metal behind you, Billy looping his cuffed hands over your head and pulling the connecting chain tight around your throat. He uses the leverage to pull you back to his chest, just hard enough to make your breath hitch, and Stu clambers up onto the couch, hooking one of your thighs over his shoulder. He flips the knife, holding the blade in his careful fingers, then presses the handle to your slick cunt, the chrome tip sliding maddeningly against your clit for a moment before sliding down to nudge at your entrance. “Think you’re up for a little more celebration?” 

Billy drops a kiss to your shoulder and you grin through a shudder, rolling your hips against the cold, sleek metal. 

“Do your worst.”


End file.
